


Colour Me Appalled

by 221b_hound



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bookshelves, Crime Scenes, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:53:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24263152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221b_hound/pseuds/221b_hound
Summary: Sherlock has rearranged the Baker Street bookshelves for a case. John is not impressed.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 56
Kudos: 138





	Colour Me Appalled

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the horrific discovery that (as seen in the background of the reading of James and the Giant Peach) Benedict Cumberbatch keeps books in colour-coded ranks.
> 
> https://twitter.com/westrebekka/status/1262392905064493063/photo/1

Sherlock was well pleased with his work, having stripped the shelves bare and refilled them, organising the books first by size and then by grades of colour. It played hell with his mind palace and almost induced a relapse into drug use, but it gave him insight into the case.

He stared at it for an hour. Or two. Maybe three. Not really present in the room but engaged with the colour coded books in a boot room off the side of the mind palace (he refused to sully the actual palace with this mess).

Somewhere in the third (or fourth or seventh) hour, a radiating silence pulled him out of the reverie.

The silence that radiated – he could practically taste irritation, frustration, annoyance and a frisson of disgust – emanated from a person to his immediate left. A scent of wintery outdoors (London air, Regent’s Park soil) and a pub (a recent pint of London’s Pride) were among the more obvious clues.

‘John,’ he murmured. He collated the deductions. ‘It’s for a case.’

‘Sherlock,’ John replied, tone clipped. ‘Why?’

It was very efficient of John to reduce all of his questions – where are my Clive Cussler thrillers? What have you done with my medical textbooks? Is that your first edition Thomas Carlyle next to that ratty copy of Twilight you fished out of a food waste skip because, and I quote, ‘the fish sauce stains are a vital clue, John!’ and Have you in fact gone completely off your onion? – to that simple and most important question. The good doctor was learning.

‘A case, John. The suspect’s bookshelf contained no fewer than three stolen first editions. But why would a man who stored books by colour bother with first editions? Rare books speak of a love of literature, or at least the rare and expensive. Colour coded shelves speak of…’

‘Barbarianism?’

‘A greater focus on aesthetics than contents.’

‘Maybe those books were just the right shade of green for his…’ John waved disparagingly at the shelves. ‘…Rainbow Monstrosity.’

Sherlock’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh, John, as always, you are a conductor of light!’

‘You mean I’ve got one right for a change?’

‘Statistically, it must be possible. Even broken clocks are right twice a day.’

‘Cheers. That’s lovely. You’ve got an hour.’

‘What?’

‘I’ll be back in an hour. Either my books are back in the order God intended, or I’m packing my bags.’

Sherlock was already pulling books from the shelves. ‘Bring dinner back with you!’ he shouted as the door slammed downstairs.

The Carlyle he laid gently to one side; the Twilight he pitched with vicious accuracy towards the bin by the desk. He stopped once to text the solution to Lestrade, and made a special effort to shelve the Cusslers back-to-front because he, too, had his limits.


End file.
